


A Touch That Sparks

by snibnoom



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: Fantasy, M/M, Magic, Smut, taverns and bards and ale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25544188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snibnoom/pseuds/snibnoom
Summary: The Drunken Dragon is home for Bin. Unfortunately, the Drunken Dragon has also seen Bin down on his luck more than once.
Relationships: Moon Bin/Yoon Sanha
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	A Touch That Sparks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catbean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catbean/gifts).



The Drunken Dragon is home for Bin. He has an apartment for himself, but he spends more nights in the tavern. Between the jarringly bright street lamp outside his bedroom window, the people who live in the home above his that seem to have iron ingots for feet, and the general stench from living so close to the canal, Bin would much rather be at the Drunken Dragon. He finds more comfort in the familiarity of the tavern than he does in being in his own home. From the stuffed boar head wearing a crown of wood on the wall by the stairs to the tattered tapestries that hang from the ceiling, Bin can recall every detail of the decor of the place. The usual faces greet him each time he walks in, some more kindly than others depending on the day. When he sits at his spot at the bar, he never needs to tell the barkeep what he wants to drink.

Bin lets the chatter and music of the tavern lull him into a haze. Each time he empties a tankard, the barkeep places another before him. The music swells louder and louder as the night draws on, growing louder than the patrons. Each time the patrons only talk louder and the musicians again begin to play louder. Eventually, Bin can barely hear himself think. 

People come and go from the seats beside Bin. A burly dwarf with arms coated in soot from a day in the mines downs two drinks back to back and leaves soon after. Three individuals who seem hardly young enough to order from the barkeep bump into his side, making a bit of ale slosh out of his cup. A willowy woman with green-tinted skin clings to his arm and laughs too loudly at his half-slurred jokes. He hardly pays attention to the way his mana, the pink-colored manifestation of his magic, worms out of her reach.

Halfway through his usual round of drinks, a familiar voice calls his name through the tavern. Bin doesn't bother looking. Half a minute later, the lean body of his friend plops onto the stool beside his.

"You're deep in your cups already, huh?" Minhyuk jabs his elbow into Bin's shoulder.

Bin jerks away from the intruding limb. "You're late."

"And you're moody." Minhyuk flicks the edge of Bin's mana, sending it sparking into the air. "You already knew that, though. Nothing is ever new here."

"The timeless tavern," Bin jokes.

Minhyuk only stays for a couple of drinks. A familiar singer, Myungjun, spends half an hour belting verse after verse of the same endless song. Bin sets aside his recently finished tankard and twists on the barstool, surveying the packed tavern. A band of musicians eventually begin playing louder than Myungjun can sing to the cheers of half the tavern. Minutes turn into hours. More and more people pile into the already crowded tavern, scooting tables to the walls to make room for dancing and the occasional betting fight. Bin makes a few bets of his own on Jinwoo. The man is far from the champion of the tavern, but he wins his fights two out of three times.

Bin drinks in the crowd. He likes it best when the tavern is full. With more people occupying such a small space, he can more easily dip his hands into their pockets without them realizing. He snatches a few loose coins and returns to his spot at the bar, sitting with his back against the hard surface. His mana flicks up over his shoulder, a spark of it harmlessly flicking his cheek. 

A similar display in the crowd, but blue rather than pink, catches Bin's eye. Magic isn't uncommon; rather, it's uncommon for someone with magic to be in a place like the Drunken Dragon. In all the evenings he's spent in the tavern, Bin has never seen another person with magic. 

The young man is tall. His head sticks out over the crowd, giving Bin a clear view of the blue mana twisting into his hair. Some other patron bumps into him and the mana flares into a brighter blue. The edges of it nearly turn white and flick around the sides of his face and neck. Bin watches as the young man weaves through the crowd. His eyes never seem to meet anybody else's and each time he bumps into someone, his mana flares again. 

The crowd is more sparse near the bar, and soon enough the young man breaks through the thick of it. He's wearing a nicely fitted jacket in a green fabric that would take most of the people in the tavern months to save up for. His boots are mostly clean and there are no patches in his pants.

Bin, as casually as he can, raises a hand towards the young man. His shoulders visibly relax and he steps between two people to cross the width of the bar and take up the empty seat to Bin's left.

"Thank you," the young man says. His voice is soft.

Bin waves the barkeep close and requests two more drinks, one more than he usually drinks in a night for himself and one for his new friend. He tries not to stare, but he can't help himself. The young man is attractive. His lips are full and pink with a cute dip in the middle. They quirk upwards at the corners even though he isn't smiling. His nose slopes smoothly and ends in the perfect curved point. The longer he sits, his elbows up on the bartop, the more his mana calms.

Bin only manages to pull his eyes away when he sees sparks of pink flicking towards the young man. He shifts further right, ducking his head.

"Sorry about that."

The young man glances at him. "About what?"

"My mana... Nevermind." He straightens. "What brings you here?"

"I just wanted a drink." The young man eyes him sideways. There's more to his words, and Bin will find out.

Bin leans until his shoulder bumps the young man's. His face is close now. His dark eyes reveal nothing, but they don't need to. Working words out of someone has always been Bin's strong suit. Bin's mana, always with a mind of its own, snakes onto the young man's shoulder. Pink meets blue as the young man's mana extends as well. The telltale sparks of magic leave the crisp smell of the air just before a rain.

Bin lowers his voice. "You're not hiding from somebody, are you?"

The young man stiffens and his mana retracts, twisting up into his hair again. "Because your type would know about that, wouldn't you?"

Bin doesn't move. Realization of the harshness of what he said dawns on the young man's face. He opens and closes his mouth twice before locking his eyes on his tankard.

"My type, is it?" Bin tilts his head forward, trying to catch the young man's eyes. "I know you didn't mean that the way it sounded, did you?"

The young man takes a drink from his tankard.

"You don't really think you're better than me, do you?" Bin leans closer. "The weight of your coin purse means nothing here. If you're in the Drunken Dragon, it's for a reason, and that reason makes you the same as the rest of us."

"I'm sorry." The young man looks at him. He's so close now that Bin can smell the ale on him as well as the tinge of something underneath that he can't name.

"You're forgiven." Bin sits upright on his stool, his mana pulling away with him and sending a scattering of sparks into the air between them. "What's your name?"

"Sanha." For the first time, he smiles. It comes slowly. As it grows, his mana relaxes over his shoulders. "What's yours?"

"Bin." He matches Sanha's smile. "Pleasure. What do you do when you're not insulting people in taverns?"

"I—" Sanha huffs. "I'm studying magic."

"You go to that fancy mage's college?" 

"I do, as a matter of fact."

Bin twists on his stoll, facing Sanha entirely. "What's your specialty?"

"Transcendental channeling."

"That means absolutely nothing to me."

Sanha laughs. "Planar magic."

"That still means nothing to me."

"Well." Sanha grins, his eyes squinting. "We have our plane, right? Our world, the planets, the moons, the stars, the sun. There are other planes as well. I focus on channeling those planes." He sits up straighter. "One day, I'll be able to shift myself to them."

Bin stares at Sanha blankly. He's never studied magic formally.

"I can also do this." Sanha rests his hand on the bar, his palm up with his middle finger and thumb touching. He taps his index finger to the two and quickly opens his hand. A small, orange flame hovers above his palm.

Bin's eyes widen. "Is it not hot?"

"No." Sanha passes the flame to his other hand. He holds it upright and the flames engulf his fingers, dancing as they stretch toward the ceiling. He closes his hand quickly and the flame dies.

"You should teach me how to do that sometime."

"I'm not really a teacher."

Bin smirks. "Are you a fast learner?" He looks Sanha over quickly. For all his rich looks, he seems a normal person, though very attractive. "I could probably teach you a few things."

Sanha's cheeks turn pink and his mana winds into his hair. "You probably don't know anything worth teaching."

Bin leans towards him. "Do you want to test that?"

Sanha knocks back his tankard, taking a long drink.

Bin grins. "No answer? You seemed like the chatty type."

Sanha pushes his tankard away. "You talk too much."

"Do I? I guess that's just how I am. When people stop responding, I feel the need to fill the void of where their words should be."

Sanha looks at him. There's a heat in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "Stop talking."

"Or what?" 

Bin grabs the bottom of Sanha's stool and yanks it close. It teeters on one leg. He grips Sanha's arm with his other hand and keeps him from falling as he pulls the stool between his legs. Sanha smells like the sweet ale and lightning. Bin could kiss him he's so close.

"You're still not giving me an alternative to talking," Bin says. "And I can keep this going for hours. People always tell me I don't know when to shut up. I blame it on my overflowing charisma."

"You should blame it on your ego."

"What would you know about my ego? You don't know me."

"I don't want to know you."

"Are you sure?" Bin's eyes shift. Sanha's mana has stretched over the tops of his shoulders, sliding towards Bin and sizzling where it meets his own. "Have you ever slept with another person that has magic, Sanha?"

Sanha blushes, but his expression is impossible to read aside from the growing intensity in his eyes.

"You probably already know how mana has a mind of its own, but the displays it can make during  _ sex—"  _ Bin whistles lowly. "It's a performance like none you've ever seen before." He tilts his head. "Aren't you a student? What better of a way to study than hands on?"

Sanha kisses him. Bin almost pulls away from the force of it, but he can't. Sanha has grabbed the collar of his shirt, his magic popping against Bin's skin where his fingers have dipped inside the fabric. Bin grins into this kiss. He slides his hand around Sanha's back and onto his neck. Sanha's mana winds around his fingers and his mouth opens under Bin's, either in a gasp or an effort to say something. Bin doesn't let him. He kisses Sanha deeper, his other hand sliding onto Sanha's thigh.

Sanha pulls back. His lips are red and his mana floats around his cheeks. He swallows visibly.

"What?" Bin retreats half an inch. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Did everything right." Sanha's hand flattens against Bin's chest. "Teach me."

Bin slides off the stool, dragging Sanha behind him by a hand. He scoots by people with ease. The bards' music is quieter on the second floor. Bin pushes into the second room on the left, his usual room. The owner always keeps it open for him, and Bin simply pays what he owes for a night's stay the morning after. He doesn't have time to say any of this to Sanha, though. As soon as the door is shut, they're kissing again. Bin fumbles the latch on the door, sliding it into place so they won't be disturbed.

Bin works at the buttons at the top of Sanha's jacket, his fingers moving deftly as he pops them off. He pushes the jacket off of Sanha's shoulders. It's a rush to see who can disrobe the quickest after that. Bin finds himself slowing after he's removed his shirt, watching the way Sanha's hips sway from side to side as he peels off his pants. When he's left only in his underwear, Sanha stops.

"Don't just stare at me," Sanha says.

Bin smirks. "Why not?"

"It's... You're overdressed." Sanha makes a quick motion with his hand and the string closure on Bin's pants unties with a burst of bluish energy around Sanha's fingers.

"That eager to see me, are you?"

"That's not—"

Bin kicks Sanha's discarded clothes to the side, hearing the rattle of coins in a pouch he hadn't noticed before. He hardly cares, though a small voice in the back of his head does tell him he should take what he can. Sanha takes a step back. Bin moves forward, and Sanha moves back again. It's a game of chase until Sanha hits the edge of the bed. He loses his balance, sitting haphazardly on the side of the mattress.

Bin grabs Sanha by the chin and tilts his head up. "You're so pretty, Sanha."

Sanha averts his gaze. His eyes travel down Bin's chest.

Bin tuts. "Look at me."

Sanha meets his eyes again. The flame in his eyes is darker, deeper.

"Do you want this?"

Sanha nods. "Please."

Bin smiles. "You're going to do what I say, right? Like a good student."

Sanha nods again, rapidly this time. The bravado he'd maintained in the tavern below has slipped away. There's no talk back, no teasing, no insults. He sits with his legs pressed together, arms in his lap in a poor attempt to hide himself and his erection. Sanha wants this as much as he does. Bin runs his thumb across Sanha's lower lip. He wants so badly to see Sanha wrecked, his lips swollen and red.

Bin's smile turns into a smirk. He drops Sanha's chin. "Take off my pants."

Sanha does as told without hesitation. He pushes them down Bin's legs and, for the first time, Bin realizes how hard his cock has gotten. He'd been so focused on Sanha—on his slight frame, on the pink tinge to his skin on his chest, on the length of his naked legs. He steps out of his pants, kicking them to the side. Sanha's eyes find his again.

"Go ahead," Bin says. "Keep going."

Sanha hooks his fingers in the sides of Bin's underwear. He moves slower as he works them down. Bin watches Sanha for every change. As Bin's cock comes free from the confines, Sanha's mana swirls at the sides of his neck, sparks of bright blue escaping into the air. Bin kicks the last article of clothing to the side as well and Sanha sits back. His eyes dart around Bin's body, from chest to legs to his cock.

"You're so cute." Bin slides his hand through the top of Sanha's hair. "Staring like that."

"Should I—" Sanha bites his bottom lip, his eyes glancing towards Bin's cock.

"If you want to."

Sanha places his hands on Bin's hips. His skin is warm where it drags over Bin's body, first up his sides then down his chest. He wraps a hand around Bin's cock and Bin has to swallow to keep himself from gasping. His mana cares not for his want to maintain his composure, however. It swells and loops around his upper arms. Sanha's breath shakes as he opens his mouth, tentatively licking Bin's length before taking him into his mouth. Bin inhales sharply. 

While Sanha had seemed clueless, it quickly becomes clear he knew more than he let on. Bin tightens his hands into fists as Sanha's mouth drags over his cock. His tongue laps at Bin's tip before he slides his mouth around again. Slow wasn't how Bin intended to take it, but it feels too good for him to complain.

Bin slides his hand into Sanha's hair again, this time grabbing it and tilting his head back. His mana bursts to life at his hand, chasing Sanha's and setting off a series of sparks around Sanha's head. Sanha pulls away with a gasp.

"Did you want me to stop?" Sanha licks his lips, now red and glistening.

Bin groans. "No, but there's so much more I want to do with you." He releases Sanha's hair. "Lay back."

Bin watches hungrily as Sanha situates himself on the bed. His hair fans out on his forehead and his mana escapes from under him, snaking down the front of his chest and around his hips. Bin grabs the edges of Sanha's underwear and pulls it down his legs slowly. He can't help his staring, even as Sanha makes a noise of discomfort.

"Don't just look at me," Sanha complains. "Touch me."

"I was wondering where that snarky attitude went."

Bin slides his palm up Sanha's length. His mouth falls open, soundlessly, as he arches into the touch. How much would Bin have to do to hear Sanha moan? He wraps his fingers around Sanha's cock and strokes him slowly. Sanha shuts his eyes tightly and his chest heaves with shaking breaths.

"Quiet, aren't you?" Bin runs his other hand up Sanha's inner thigh.

"Shut up." Sanha's eyes open halfway.

Bin shakes his head. "Afraid I won't be doing that." He pulls his hands away and leans over Sanha's body. "You say it's my ego, but I can't help it. I love to hear myself talk, but I'd love even more to hear the noises you can make." Bin presses his thumb against Sanha's bottom lip. "You can do that for me, can't you?"

Sanha nods. The air of confidence is gone again, replaced with the subservient look in his eyes.

"You'll do whatever I ask?"

"Yes."

"Good." Bin presses his thumb between Sanha's lips. "Lick it."

Sanha obeys. His tongue is soft and warm. Bin almost loses himself in the feeling, his mana shifting to a deep pink color. Sanha looks at him with half-lidded eyes, his lips pursed cutely around Bin's digit.

"Okay, that's enough." Bin clears his throat and pulls his hand away.

Sanha pouts. "Are you sure?"

Bin shakes his head. "You're supposed to do what I say, remember? Don't be bad. You don't want a punishment, do you?"

Sanha falls quiet again, giving Bin the time to focus. He smears his wet thumb across the palm of his other hand in an arc as he mumbles a short incantation to himself. A thin, clear oil appears where his thumb passes.

"There's a spell for that?" Sanha asks.

Bin smirks. "I told you, Sanha: I can teach you a few things." Bin sits back on his legs. "Are you okay?"

Sanha nods.

Bin gathers the oil onto his fingers. There's a spark of pink mana as he scoots up between Sanha's bent legs and slides a finger against his entrance. He works his finger into Sanha slowly. Sanha's brows furrow. Bin withdraws his finger and pushes it back in again. Sanha begins to relax the longer Bin fingers him. His mouth opens slightly, silently. Color floods his body. Bin keeps himself where he is, working one then two more fingers into Sanha as he strokes Sanha's cock with his other hand. Sanha's mana winds around his wrists. Bin can't stop his own from flowing along his arms to tangle with Sanha's. He twists and prods and parts his fingers as Sanha arches before him, grasping the bedsheets and gasping as he shuts his eyes tightly.

Sanha frowns when Bin withdraws his fingers. "Why did you—"

"Be patient." Bin strokes himself, spreading what's left of the oil along his length.

"I was so close." Sanha shifts, smoothing the fabric beneath him where he'd wrinkled it. "Why did you stop?"

Bin drags himself forward. "You didn't think that was it, did you?" He rubs his cock against Sanha, and Sanha gasps loudly. "Did you think you were going to be the only one having fun?"

"Please," Sanha whines. "Bin, please."

Bin holds himself still. "You're going to be good, right?"

Sanha nods. "I'll be good. Please, Bin."

Bin rubs his cock against Sanha's entrance. "Please?" He smirks. "If there's something you want, you'll have to be more specific and ask me for it."

"Fuck me," Sanha gasps. His mana extends towards Bin, dragging up his legs. "Please. I can't take it anymore."

Bin gives in. He can't wait any longer than it seems Sanha can. Finally, as his cock enters Sanha's warmth, Sanha moans. It's a beautiful sound, long and high. Bin presses himself entirely into Sanha and rocks forward.

Sanha, brows furrowed, whines. "P-please," he stammers. "I'll do whatever you want."

"You don't have to do anything else for me." Bin pulls out and slides back in slowly. "Just let me fuck you."

Bin works into a rhythm, thrusting into Sanha over and over and over again. He leans over him and Sanha pulls him close. The kiss is fierce and deep. Sanha's tongue slides against his. Bin feels the sparks of Sanha's mana against his own and he moves faster, bending Sanha's legs up so he can thrust deeper into him. 

Sanha moans, his fingers digging into Bin's arms. "It feels so good. Fuck, Bin, it feels so good."

"Yeah?" Bin kisses Sanha's neck. "I thought you said there was nothing I could teach you. Remember that?" He thrusts into Sanha particularly hard, drawing another moan out of him. 

"I take it back. I didn't mean it." Sanha arches. "Please,  _ harder—" _

Before long, Bin loses track of where his mana ends and where Sanha's begins. They're wrapped up in each other and moving as one. Dark pink swirls beside bright blue. Sanha moans louder with every thrust, Bin's name peppered between them like a swear. When Sanha cums, he moans so loud that people in the tavern below can probably hear. Bin keeps moving, gripping Sanha's hips as he drives closer to the edge. He cums not long after Sanha, a string of swears escaping him. He sits back on his legs and pulls out of Sanha slowly. A quick wave of his hand, accompanied by the flash of magic around his wrist, spares the poor bedsheets of most of the mess.

Silence settles between them. Sanha sits himself up and, with his own magical means, makes himself clean. The room is flooded with the scent of a storm from their magic. Bin's mana shrinks slowly, twisting back up his arms until it lingers like a cape around his shoulders as it normally does.

Sanha breaks the silence first. "Is that it, then? Are you done with me?"

"You don't have to leave if you don't want to." Bin slides off the bed, finding his discarded underwear and pulling it back on. "I won't kick you out."

Sanha pushes back the blanket, wiggling himself under the covers. "I'm tired."

Bin smirks. "Do you need me to take care of you?"

Sanha frowns. "Not when you say it like that."

"I'll go get you some water." Bin slips his shirt on. "Or ale? Do you want ale?"

Sanha shakes his head. "I don't really drink a lot."

"You don't say."

Bin finishes dressing quickly. He presses a quick kiss to Sanha's forehead before heading back down to the tavern. The barkeep looks at him strangely when he requests water, but he retrieves it anyway. The room is quiet when he returns. Sanha is hidden almost entirely under the covers. Only his face from his eyes up and the smallest licks of his mana are visible. His clothes have been neatly folded and set on top of the storage trunk in the room.

"Got you your water." Bin sits on the edge of the bed. "Drink up."

Sanha pushes himself upright. He's quiet as he sips from the cup. The strong smell of a storm has faded somewhat from the room, but Sanha's mana still floats around his neck and cheeks in a bright blue color.

Bin grabs the second pillow from the bed and drops it on the floor. "I'll sleep down here."

Sanha frowns. "What?"

Bin looks between Sanha and the pillow now on the ground. "Is something wrong?"

"You don't... have to." Sanha pulls the blanket up around his chest. "It's your room."

Bin disrobes down to his underwear again, going around the other side of the bed to slide in. The sheets are cool against his skin, but he stays sitting up against the headboard. He closes his eyes. Sanha shifts every so often, pulling the sheets up and then folding them down.

"Aren't you going to sleep?" Sanha whispers. "Are you asleep?"

Bin peeks sideways at Sanha. "Not yet."

"Aren't you uncomfortable sitting up like that?"

Bin grins, rolling his head against the headboard so he can look at Sanha properly. His cheeks are still flushed, but his mana is calm.

"If you want me to hold you, just say so."

Sanha averts his eyes. "Can you, then?"

Bin slides down under the sheets. He wiggles an arm under Sanha's body and pulls him against his chest so they're facing each other, but with Sanha's head almost in his chest. Sanha sets his arm, slowly, around Bin's waist. The silence between them grows and stretches. Their bodies settle together. Bin struggles to keep his eyes open for as long as he can, but eventually gives in to the pull of sleep.

Bin wakes with a racing heart. He holds still despite the pounding in his head. The room is cold. He picks his head up from the pillow and scans the room, finding no sign of Sanha. His clothes are gone from atop the trunk in the room, and the mess of Bin's clothes that he'd left on the floor is also gone.

"No," Bin mumbles. 

It's a chore for Bin to draw himself upright. He grabs the cup of water he'd left beside the window, a piece of paper fluttering to the floor from under it. He spills the water on himself as he tries to drink from it and retrieve the paper at the same time.

A single word had been scrawled on the parchment.  _ Sorry. _

Bin laughs, but the shaking feeling of it makes the pain in his head swell. He searches the room pointlessly for his belongings, finding all of them missing. Sanha even took his shoes. The longer Bin is awake, the more his head hurts. He draws a pattern in the air with two fingers then presses them to his chest. The slightly-shimmering illusion of his clothing spreads down his body. It won't last long, but it will save him at least the trouble of walking naked through the city.

The familiar face of the man behind the bar greets him at the bottom of the stairs. "You look like shit."

"I feel like shit."

"You want breakfast?"

"No. I'll be back with your money in a few hours."

The man grimaces. "A few hours? Why?"

"I got robbed."

"Again?"

Bin sighs and rubs his eyes. "Yes, again."

"You really have a type, don't you? All right. Drop the gold through the back window when you're back, like usual."

Bin gives a halfhearted goodbye and braces himself for the chill of the morning air. The stones of the badly worked streets dig into his bare feet. Cold wind beats against his bare back, not that anybody could notice thanks to the savior of his magic. He wraps his arms around himself. Despite the discomfort, he can't help but smile as he finds himself whispering Sanha's name as he walks.


End file.
